


Stay

by StupidGenius



Series: Tumblr AUs/prompts (Sterek) [10]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Car Accidents, Future Fic, Hospitalization, Hurt Stiles, Near Death, i love getting angsty prompts guys you should send me more, kind of an 'If I Stay' AU, more like graphic depictions of character injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 12:10:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4434947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StupidGenius/pseuds/StupidGenius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“She’s right.” Isaac says after a while.</p><p>“Uh, no.” Stiles says a little hysterically. “No, she's not right, not this time, because I’m batman, and I can’t die.” He thinks of Erica. How, just before the alpha pack, they were becoming friends. Of her limp body in Derek’s arms. Derek, who was probably thinking of a way to blame himself for all of this.</p><p>“I’ll be fine.”</p><p>No one listens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous said: Sterek: "I said things I shouldn't have said during our fight and now you're gone for hours and I got a phone call saying you're in a car accident wtf don't die on me I still have to apologize and I haven't proposed" au pls
> 
> I love angsty prompts guys. Idk why. It brings me joy when my boyfriend tells me his friends are crying over my fics.

“You’re such an _asshole_!” Stiles yells, throwing his hands up in the air. “I can’t believe you!”

“It was too dangerous. I didn’t want you to get hurt.” Derek ground out. “You’re breakable.”

They’ve been having this fight for hours. The topic had come up before in many other fights, but Derek could tell this one was bad.

“That doesn’t give you the right to not tell me when there’s a threat! I’m sick of you always trying to protect me, Derek, I’m going to get hurt no matter what you do. I can help you now, do you get that?! I have magic, we could’ve gotten rid of those things much faster if you’d gotten me. And you’re _just_ as breakable as me, Derek, don’t even say that.”

“I don’t want to lose you.”

“You didn’t even give me a fucking choice! You convinced the pack – _our_ pack – to lie to me for weeks about this! I can’t –” Stiles cuts off, swallowing. Derek watches him, dread pooling in his gut. The younger man scrubs a hand down his face and licks his lips. “I can’t do this right now.”

“So let’s not.  I’m _sorry_ , Stiles.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry too.” He says quietly. He walks past Derek quickly, grabbing his jacket and his keys, and starts angrily towards the door. “I’m going out.”

“Do you –” He starts, but Stiles interrupts him.

“Don’t wait up.”

And then he’s gone.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It’s well past midnight when he gets the call.

Part of him had been thinking he'll never come back. Another part of him thinks he has to be, because all his clothes are here, right? He has to come back, because all his things are here, and Derek's here, and he's sorry. He's sorry he ever lied, sorry he's so over protective.

He just wants Stiles back. Wants to hold him and kiss him and finally do what he's been meaning to do for months, just get down on one knee and say those four stupid words.

He's fucked everything up.

Its 3 when his phone rings. It’s the police station, so he assumes it’s the one of the deputies calling for Stiles.

“Hello?”

“Derek, thank god.” It’s no. It’s Parrish, and he has no idea why Parrish would be calling him from the station. “You – It’s Stiles.” His throat closes up.

“What?” He croaks.

“There was an accident. He’s…” There’s a pause. “Just get to the hospital.” And then he hangs up.

He doesn’t remember much about the drive, but the he pack’s already there when he got there, but he doesn’t remember calling them. Maybe Parrish, or Lydia.

Oh god, did Lydia scream when it happened? Does she know?

“Derek –” Scott starts.

“What happened?” He manages to get out. He’s barely functioning right now, and there’s too much noise to focus on Stiles’ heartbeat, where it is.

Melissa Appears in front of him, along with Parrish, and move him to the side, away from the pack and the other people in the waiting room. “Is he –” He doesn’t even know what he’s asking. Is Stiles okay? Is it serious? Is he dead? He doesn’t know what’s happening right now, and it’s killing him.

“It looks like he was driving back to your apartment.” Parrish says gently, and Derek wants to cry. “It… the other driver fell asleep at the wheel. He was going 20 miles over the speed limit, and Stiles didn’t have enough time to react.”

“The other driver died on impact.” Melissa explained. “Stiles…we’re going to do what we can, Derek.”

“Is –” he swallowed. “Is he gonna be okay?”

Melissa didn’t answer.

 

 

* * *

 

 

They put him in a room with glass walls, separate from other people. Derek always thought they kept everyone in the ICU in one giant room, but he wrong.

“He hit his head pretty hard. The jeep…it crash into him from the side, and the jeep rolled off into the preserve. He broke a few bones, and punctured a lung. We put him on ventilator, he didn’t seem to be breathing correctly on his own. Their main concern is his brain. The bones…” Derek tunes her out, going to stand next to the bed.

Stiles is too pale. One side of his face is covered in small scrapes and bruises, and there was a bandage wrapped around his head that was already stained with red, brown hair sticking out in all directions. There’s a tube down his throat, and IVs stuck in his arms, and all Derek can think is that Stiles hates needles. He hates them so much, and he hated getting the triskelion tattoo on his back, but he got it anyway, because they

They were mates.

_“There.” Stiles said, linking their hands together. “Now we’re officially mated.”_

_“Mates aren’t a thing, Stiles.” Derek sighed, rolling his eyes._

_“We’re still gonna be together forever though, right?”_

_“Can’t imagine a future where we aren’t.”_

“…longer he goes without waking up, the less likely it is. But we’re not giving up on him.”

Melissa doesn’t say anything else after that. Derek assumes she knows he isn’t listening.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles doesn’t know what’s going on, exactly. One moment, he’s driving back to the apartment, ready to just forget the whole thing, and the next? He’s here.

He knows it’s the hospital. He knows because of the smells, and the sounds, and the fact that he’s wearing nothing but a hospital gown. He’s also come to the conclusion that no one can see him, because they probably would have escorted him back to his room if they could. That, and he tried to talk to a nurse earlier and the guy never answered.

“Alright. So, I’m…” He’s not sure. Is he dead?

God, he hopes he isn’t dead.

“We should go.” Isaac says. The whole pack is taking up space in the waiting room, and they look tired. The sun is going down outside, and he wonders how long they’ve been there. “Derek’s not coming out.”

“We can’t leave him alone.” Scott says. “Stiles would –”

“Stiles is in a coma.” Lydia snaps, and oh. “It doesn’t matter what he would do, l cause he can’t do it. Not right now.”

“She said he could be deaf. They won’t know until he wakes up.” Isaac whispers.

“ _If_ he wakes up.” Lydia mutters. Stiles frowns.

“Would you stop being so fucking negative!” Scott explodes. “What’s your problem!? Stiles is gonna make it!”

“YOU CAN’T KNOW THAT!” Lydia yells. The group goes quiet. “You can’t, Scott! You always say everything is going to be alright and then it _isn’t_! I’m sick of watching my friends die, and I’m _sick_ of you pretending like everything is going to fine. This isn’t some supernatural problem we can fix with a spell or Deaton. This is a real life problem, hundreds of people die because of it every day, and just because Stiles is magic doesn’t make him an exception!”

“Lyds…” Stiles whispers, reached out toward her. Her head turns sharply in his direction, and he thinks for a second that she sees him. But her eyes never settle on him, and she gets up, not looking back at the pack.

“I’m leaving.” She chokes out. And then she’s gone.

“She’s right.” Isaac says after a while.

“Uh, no.” Stiles says a little hysterically. “No, she's not right, not this time, because I’m batman, and I can’t die.” He thinks of Erica. How, just before the alpha pack, they were becoming friends. Of her limp body in Derek’s arms. Derek, who was probably thinking of a way to blame himself for all of this.

“I’ll be fine.”

No one listens.

 

 

* * *

 

 

He doesn’t know what day it is, or how long it’s been. He blacks out sometimes, disappears. Derek’s beard has grown, and Stiles doesn’t know if he’s left the room or not. He knows at least some time has passed, because the ventilator’s gone.

He avoids looking at himself. He did, the first day, and it reminded him too much of his mother. Too much of his father. He thinks, one day, that it’s probably fitting. The last Stilinski dying just like his parents did. In a hospital bed, hooked up to machines and IVs. He was there when the doctors said that it’s been too long. His chances of waking up are slim. It hasn’t even been a month, probably, but they’re slim.

“Stiles.” It’s Derek’s voice, drawing him away from the window and towards where the werewolf is curled up in a chair next to the bed.

“I’m here.” He says, though he knows no one can hear.

“I’m sorry.” Derek whispers. “I’m sorry for everything. For making them lie to you. For not telling you about the harpies, for not letting you come with us. I didn’t want to lose you, but I guess…you were going to get hurt no matter what I did.” He pauses. “You could die mad at me.” His voice cracks, and Stiles wasn’t to cry. He doesn’t know if he can in this…form, or whatever.

“I’m not mad at you! I could never stay mad at you Derek, this isn’t your fault.” He tries to put his hands over his, but it just goes right through.

“There was something I wanted to do.” Derek continues on. “I’ve been planning it for months actually. I was waiting for the right time, for the harpies to leave. No distractions. But then – you found out, you had to. I knew you would, I don’t know why I tried to hide it. You found out, and we fault, and I let you –” He cuts himself off, then swallows. “Well, no, I didn’t _let_ you leave. You left. Anyone would be crazy to think they could _make_ you do anything. But I should’ve tried, Stiles. I should have tried to –”

Stiles feels tears rolling down his cheeks, so that answers that question. He draws his knees up to his chest, feeling cold.

“Please.” Derek begs, and he sounds broken. “Please don’t die. Don’t leave before I make it up to you. I will Stiles, I swear. Just don’t…p-please.”

“Derek.” He croaks.

“I bought a ring.”

What

“I don’t even care if you say no, I just need you alive, Stiles, please.”

“What?” His eyes are probably about to pop out of his skull.

A ring? Derek bought a ring? Derek’s planning on proposing? “Of course I’d say yes, you moron!” He yells. “Oh my god. This is what you and Lydia went to do, isn’t it.  Oh my god.” His world goes black around the edges, and for a moment, he thinks this is it. That he’s either about to go back in his body or leave permanently. But that’s not it. He’s just fading out again.

“You better be working properly when I comeback.” He hisses at his body.

It doesn’t answer.

 

 

* * *

 

 

By some miracle, the pack gets Derek to go home. He knows this because when he comes back, Derek’s gone. His chair is still right next to the bed, leather jacket slung over the back. Stiles settles down in it, feeling safer, and looks over his body. He doesn’t know what happened between the last time he faded out and now, but the tube’s back down his throat.

“What happened, body?” He groans. “We were doing so well. I told you to get better, not fall apart.”

He looks up when the door opens, and watches as Scott enters the room.

God, he misses Scott.

The werewolf doesn’t say anything for a while. He sits in one of the chairs against the wall and stares, eyes shining with unshed tears, and Stiles hates himself. He hates that he did this to them, to his pack, hates that he walked out instead of dealing like an adult. Hates that he hasn’t figured out how to get back in his body. It’s been almost a month, he knows now, and he can see himself wasting away.

“You’re supposed to always be there.” Scott whispers.

“I know, buddy. I’m sorry.” He sits on the edge of his bed, looking down at one of his pale, bruised hands.

“You’re supposed to always be okay.” He leans forward, taking the chair with him, and grabs Stiles’ hand. Then he makes this noise, and it’s something between frustrated and pained and Stiles aches. “I know you’re hurt. I know you’re in pain, but I can’t. I can’t do anything.”

“It’s okay, Scott.” He lets his hand hover over his friend’s shoulder, because it’s the best he can do.

 

 

* * *

 

 

He’s tired.

He didn’t know it was possible to feel tired, in this weird in-between dimension, but it is. His limbs feel heavy, and blinking takes too long. He looks down, and all he sees is paper white skin stretched over bone. He doesn’t know what this means, but he feels like it’s the end. Like he doesn’t get a choice.

He tried hard to get back to his body. He lay down over it, he tried to jump in. he held its hand, tried to climb into the fucking IV… nothing. All thee pack has been in his room now, and Derek’s still a permanent fixture. He doesn’t know why he’s not getting better.

“I can see why you want to leave.” Derek says quietly. It’s the first thing he’s said in days. “Your life is going to be very difficult if you stay. Melissa said you’ll probably need hearing aids. It’ll take months of recovery.”

 _I don’t care._ He wants to say, but he can’t. He doesn’t have the energy.

“I brought you something.” His voice cracks. Stiles sits up a little straighter, watching Derek reach into his pocket. He pulls out something shiny, about the size of his palm, and Stiles takes a second to realize what it is.

His dad’s badge.

Derek puts it in his limp hand, and Stiles. Stiles feels it. He feels the cool metal against his palm, the heat of Derek’s hand. That never happened before, but he’s too focused on Derek to think much of it.

“If…if you leave…nothing will ever be the same again. The pack will never be the same. You’re the only thing holding us together after all these years, Stiles, and I don’t want to lose you. But if you do go…I’m glad you’ll be with your family again.”

“You fucking sap.” Stiles sniffs. “You –” he cuts off, because suddenly it hurts.

The pain rips right through him, building in his chest and his head, and he squeezes his eyes shut. It doesn’t go away, and when he tried to open his eyes again, he can’t. He’s lying on something, he thinks, and something as simple as opening his eyes shouldn’t be a problem, but he can’t do it. He feels the weight of someone else’s hand in his, and he squeezes, trying to see if he’s not completely paralyzed. It works, but it takes a lot out of him, and everything is so _muffled_ , he barely hears when his name is called.

“Stiles?”

He let go, feeling like he accomplished something impossible.

 

 

* * *

 

 

**Four months later**

Derek is getting ready for bed, slipping out of his shirt. He glanced back at where Stiles is stretched out over the bed, eyes closed and small smile on his face, and he can’t help but grin.

He thought he’d never get to have this again. They’d been so sure Stiles wouldn’t pull through in the end, but now here he was. He was still too thin, and he did end up needing hearing aids. He walked with a limp and his left hand always shook when he moved it now. But he was here. He was alive, and happy, and that was better than nothing.

“Derek.” Stiles says suddenly, sitting up quickly. Well, as quickly as he could manage.

“Hmm?”

“I’d say yes.” Derek freezes.

“What.”

“I’d say yes.” He repeats, and Derek can hardly hear Stiles’ heart pounding over the rush of blood in his own ears. “If you asked. Of course I’d say yes, moron. I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> My [tumblr](http://littleredtheboy.tumblr.com/). Come cry over Stiles with me.
> 
> want me to write anything? [Send me a prompt](http://stupidgenius.tumblr.com/ask).


End file.
